You're Pretty
by gloryblastit
Summary: The Karate Kid. Daniel and Johnny slash. Just something that's been kicking around my twisted mind.
1. Default Chapter

After the Beach…Before the Halloween Dance 

Two thoughts kept flashing in Daniel's head. The first was that he hated it here. The second was that he was fucked.

It stayed warmer in Southern California much later than it did in New Jersey and so he was in just jeans and a tee shirt even though it was mid October. Beat up old red Nikes. He really should have had new ones in September but they couldn't afford it. They couldn't afford anything.

He'd tried, after three or four beatings, to avoid those Cobra Kai guys. There were five of them and they'd corner him, one or two would hold him and the others would pound on him, he didn't have a chance. And it was all over Ali. He should leave her alone, too. But he just couldn't. She was so cute with her blond hair and freckles, green eyes like the Atlantic back home. He couldn't leave her alone. Especially when she looked at him with that little half smile, her eyes squinted against the sun.

It was always sunny here.

"You're dead, LaRusso,"

He ran, and it hadn't taken long for his side to start hurting. Down back alleys, across fields, school yards of the San Fernando Valley. Johnny Laurence chased him and he ran, but it wouldn't do any good. Johnny was bigger, stronger, and faster. He'd catch him, sooner or later.

Ali, of course, was Johnny's ex girl friend. How this was Daniel's fault was beyond him, since he was travelling across the country with his mom when they broke up. He had been bored out of his skull, looking at the numbing farmland of those square states in the middle. He didn't know the violence and excitement he was headed for.

Johnny was closer, Daniel could hear his sneakers pounding the ground, could hear his breath.

He ran behind a school, past the swing sets and jungle gyms, and every breath hurt so bad, and there was a fence past the swings and the merry go round.

He was fucked.

Johnny laughed. Johnny loved Ali and blamed his loss on Daniel, and this wasn't fair. Daniel thought again how he hated it here and wished he'd never met any of these people.

He jumped at the fence, spidering his fingers and toes through the diamond shapes, hoping to shimmy up and over before Johnny got him.

"Gotcha now," Johnny grabbed his shirt and yanked him down. For some reason it was just Johnny, the other Cobra Kais were conspicuously absent.

Johnny spun him around, grabbed his wrist. Daniel tried to yank out of his grasp but Johnny tightened up on him. So he squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, tensing up in anticipation of getting hit.

And he was hit, hard, in the stomach. He doubled up, feeling that odd almost scary inability to breathe that he never got used to. And from September to now he'd been punched in the stomach a lot.

He curled up on the ground, the fence at his back, feeling the pain come in waves, feeling himself able to breathe again. He was crying strictly due to pain, tears of pain just like when a little kid scrapes off all the skin on his knee.

He hoped Johnny was gone and opened one eye a bit to see. Nope. He saw Johnny's odd blond hair, a pale yellow, blonder than Ali's. Almost pretty in a way.

Johnny reached down and Daniel flinched, but he just rested his hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"Why…it's not my fault…about Ali…" Daniel sputtered, his breath not quite back enough for talking. Johnny glared at him but said, "I know," in a more reasonable tone than Daniel had ever heard him use.

He sat up, leaning against the fence. It was late afternoon, the light a faded gold, gleaming off of all the metal things.

Johnny still scowled down at him, and Daniel felt a funny sort of helplessness, an acute awareness that he wasn't in control of this situation. If Johnny wanted to beat him up he would.

"So if you know leave me the fuck alone," Daniel said, and realized it was statements like this that contributed to how often he was getting his ass kicked. He stood up and brushed himself off. Johnny backed him up against the fence, held his wrists tight against it.

"It's easy to blame you," he said, and put his face close to Daniel's so their noses nearly touched. Johnny had dark blue eyes.

Daniel tried to free his wrists, his eyes widening, feeling a different type of fear now.

"Hey, look…" There weren't words, and he looked around wildly for help. There wasn't any help. They were alone.

"And I've noticed something about you," Johnny said, his voice low. Daniel stared at him and felt his heart beating too fast.

"You're pretty," Johnny said in a flat way. Daniel twisted and struggled to get out of his grasp but Johnny was too strong. He pressed up against Daniel and kissed him, and after a few seconds Daniel kissed him back, and felt himself responding, despite what he was thinking.


	2. Chapter 2

Running home through the late afternoon light, he could still feel the kiss tingling on his lips. What the hell was that?

Up the stairs to his apartment that overlooked the broken pool. The swimming pool. It had been all his mother talked about on the way out here, practically. It was always the difference between her illusions and reality. A broken green algae swimming pool.

Inside the apartment, hot and stuffy from being shut all day, locked up tight so no one would break in. Not that there was anything to steal, anyway. Daniel sat on the couch, closed his eyes, let his head fall back.

He was confused, and he didn't want to be. He wanted to be angry with Johnny for forcing him to kiss him like that. But he wasn't disgusted or angry, strictly speaking.

At least his mother worked and it gave him a few hours of peace before she came home, probing him about his day and how he was getting along here and where did that bruise come from? She saw what she wanted to see in a way, and if he said he fell off his bike again or it happened so innocently in gym class than that is what she would believe, because she wanted to.

And just what the fuck was with Johnny anyway? Kissing him like that, like he was a girl. Daniel felt his cheeks getting red, thinking how he had liked it. Thinking how he liked that firm, powerful kiss, so different from girls' soft lips and delicate tongues. How he kind of liked the lack of choice in it, and he saw again Johnny's oddly pretty light blond hair hanging so straight over his blue eyes.

He opened his eyes. The light hung heavy and gold above the coffee table and he put his sneakers up on it. His mom didn't care. It was a shit coffee table. Everything they had was shit, but Johnny was rich like Ali, they had those California mansions and California money.

It pissed him off a bit, thinking he was like their plaything, because he was new and he was poor and he had no power here. They had all the power.

Would Johnny chase him again and catch him? Make him kiss him again? How could he stop him? Johnny was bigger and stronger and faster, able to catch him and make him do whatever he wanted.

Daniel sighed, glanced through the gold light at the kitchen half hidden in gloom. Kitchen. Ha. It was so damn small, like a little closet. The kitchen table was in the living room next to the couch. There wasn't any food he liked, either. Just healthy shit, wheat germ and grannola and vegetables.

He remembered how his stomach had kind of twisted when Johnny wouldn't let go of his wrists and leaned in to kiss him. How he'd wanted to get away but was glad he couldn't. Fuck. What was wrong with him? He liked Ali. Ali. Neat green eyes, dark blond hair. She was perfect. Straight white teeth, sweet smile. Not Johnny. Not a boy.

The gold light had faded to insignificance by the time his mother came in.

"Oh, hi," she said, and in her voice he could hear that she was pleased to see him.

"Hi," he said in his sulky voice, sure she could tell just by looking at him that he'd been kissed by a boy.


	3. Chapter 3

Skulking around school, trying not to be seen.

"Hey," Ali said, cornering him in the cafeteria.

"Uh, hi," he said, looking everywhere but at her. He felt absurdly like he cheated on her.

"Where have you been?" she said, edging closer to him. He could smell coconut suntan oil and her perfume. This close he could see the freckles on her nose.

"Where? Nowhere. I mean, you know, around,"

"Oh," Closer still, and she tugged on the collar of his shirt, and he thought how easy it would be to kiss her, if they weren't in the crowded lunch room.

He saw Johnny's friends in the halls, and they'd glare at him, shove him against a locker.

"Watch where you're going, Daniel," Then they'd laugh, their laughter echoing off the lockers.

But when he saw Johnny he was alone. He didn't touch him or say anything, just watched him as he walked to his next class.

After school he felt those dark blue eyes boring into him but he'd turn around quick and wouldn't see anyone.

Walking home because his bike was busted, and his apartment wasn't far from the school. As he passed the car stalls near the gate he thought he'd made it, home free.

"Hi, Daniel,"

He whipped around, his breathing suddenly fast and shallow. Johnny stood in the shadows of the car stalls, arms folded, a slight smile on his face.

He tried to calculate his chances of escape, back to the school or up to his apartment? Shit, shit. He ran toward the gate, slammed through it and heard its metallic rattle as it crashed into the cement wall, heard Johnny right behind him. Up the stairs two by two, hearing the echo of Johnny's sneakers pounding on the stairs.

His key was already in his hand and he fiddled with it in the lock, maybe he had time and could lock Johnny out.

The door opened and he went in, tried to shut the door but Johnny blocked it.

"What? Not going to let me in?" he said, and shut the door behind him, stood against it.

"My mother's home,"

"She is not. Poor piece of shit like you, you know she works until seven or eight at night,"

Daniel scowled, slid his eyes toward Johnny who stayed where he was, back against the door, a slight smile on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

Daniel felt the heat in his apartment, the trapped heat from the day. He breathed it in. He saw the diffuse light on everything, on the fake wood of the kitchen table, on the dying plant above the sink, on the faded couch cushions. Johnny stared down at him, a slight smile on his face. In the darkened living room his eyes looked even darker, a funny dark blue that Daniel couldn't help thinking was almost pretty. He saw how the dark blond eyelashes rimmed that odd color.

He closed his eyes, not liking the train of his thoughts. It should be Ali he was thinking of, her sea green eyes boring into him, the way she pulled on his clothes every time she talked to him, little tugs on his sleeves or shirt collars.

"Daniel," Johnny said, his voice low and almost sinister. Daniel opened his eyes at his name, felt his breathing start to become faster and more shallow. Where could he go? Slam himself into his room, his weight against the door against Johnny's? Would that even work? He licked his lips and looked at Johnny staring at him.

"Uh, Johnny, look…" he began. He could talk his way out of this. Talking had always been his friend. Sometimes it was like his mouth just moved independent of his brain.

"Yeah?" Johnny said, the smile just slightly wider now. His voice was lower. Daniel looked to the side, the bedroom doors behind him, Johnny in front of him. Even in this dim light his hair gleamed like metal. Such an odd shade of blond, so light, bleached by years of the sun.

"Uh, listen…" Talking had turned on him. He had no words for this. He watched Johnny come slowly toward him, and he felt frozen. He felt almost high with the impending sense of doom, the impending sense of having no choice.

The blank bedroom door was at his back and Johnny had advanced, come stealthily toward him. Daniel took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second, and decided. He had to fight. He punched at Johnny, kicked, but each move was easily blocked. He was down in a second, Johnny straddling him, holding his arms at the wrists above his head. Daniel twisted beneath him and in his grasp but it was no good.

"Stop fighting," Johnny whispered as he leaned in toward him, kissed him. Daniel felt his wrists being pressed painfully into the carpet, felt all of Johnny's weight on him. Tears slid down his cheeks but he relaxed, let Johnny kiss him and he kissed him back.

"That's better," Johnny said softly, still holding the undersides of his wrists with the palms of his hands. Daniel twisted under his weight.

"Jesus, Johnny, let me up-" Johnny cut off his words by kissing him again, his mouth smothering the words as they tried to escape. He tangled up his tongue.

The light had faded even more. Just a red/orange line of sunset remained outside, and inside the apartment it was mostly shadows. Somehow the dark made things easier, and the twisting struggle to get away became something else, and he almost liked the feeling of Johnny's weight on top of him. He opened his mouth almost eagerly for the hard kiss, so different from the kisses of girls. This kiss was powerful, it pulled things from him, he had to surrender to it. Girls' kisses were so subtle and soft, like something you could never quite grasp, or something that might die if you did, like the delicate wings of butterflies.

Outside it was complete dark now, the room no more than dark and darker shadows. Johnny kissed him hungrily, kissed his neck, lingering at the spot of his fast pulse. He let go of one wrist but Daniel didn't move it, there was no point. There was no where to go. He waited for whatever Johnny would do next.


	5. Chapter 5

He felt this tightening in his chest, his lips quivering as Johnny bore down on him again. He struggled again, twisting underneath his weight.

He could hear his mother's footsteps outside, coming up the stairs that lead to the walkway outside the apartment. He could imagine her walking beside the window, her jacket and scarf on, her arms full of something. He twisted again, more violently, wondering why she was coming home so early.

"Shit! Get off of me!" he said, and both he and Johnny heard the key as it slid into the lock. Daniel blinked, unsure of what Johnny would do.

He scrambled off of him, and Daniel jumped up, straightening his clothes that had become twisted around him. Johnny ran a hand through his yellow blond hair. His mother opened the door, cradling a brown paper supermarket bag in her arms.

"Daniel, hi…oh," she said, noticing Johnny. Daniel wondered if she noticed the guilty looks in both of their eyes, the disheveled hair and clothes, the hectic red spots on their cheeks.

She put the grocery bag down on the kitchen table, a circle of cheap metal and painted formica, and Daniel noticed again how cheap and run down everything was in their apartment, from the fake wood bookshelves to the ratty couch. He could only imagine the opulence of Johnny's house.

"I'm Ms. Larusso," she said, holding her hand out to Johnny. Daniel watched as Johnny took her hand and smiled, and seemed for all the world like some upstanding young man. Daniel rolled his eyes. That's how it would seem. You could tell Johnny was rich, and it was more than his designer clothes and expensive sneakers. It was something in the way he carried himself, some attitude that he had a right to everything. He thought it was strange that adults always responded so positively to that kind of attitude. His mother did.

"I'm John Laurence," he said, and his voice was deep and almost cultured. Daniel was nearly scowling now, knowing how he would come off to Johnny's parents, if he ever had the misfortune of meeting them. They'd see the bruises, the old and worn clothes, the battered sneakers, the old bike he rode. They'd see he didn't have a car or nice clothes, and they'd see that way he shrunk from things now, his head down, eyes on the ground.

"Ma," Daniel said, his voice too sharp, "why are you home so early?" Was it possible her early arrival was upsetting him for more reasons than he'd care to admit? Is it possible he wanted to see how far Johnny would have gone?

"Oh, they closed the office early. So I figured I'd do a little grocery shopping. I was gonna make some lasagna, do you boys want some?" Daniel wasn't too happy with how she linked him to Johnny that way. They weren't "boys" or friends or anything. They weren't anything to each other.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Larusso, but I've really got to be going," Johnny said, and Daniel watched as his mother smiled at him and said how nice it had been meeting him, and he even knew what she was thinking. She was glad that he was making friends. Oh, if she only knew.

"Daniel, I'll see you later," Johnny said, and he somehow made it sound so threatening.

"Uh, yeah," Daniel said, his voice thick, and he cleared his throat.

Still scowling, he helped his mother put the groceries away, slamming the cabinet doors. His mother glanced at him.

"He seems nice," she said, and Daniel didn't say anything, "he's rich, huh?"

"Yeah," Daniel said.


	6. Chapter 6

The classrooms all opened to the outside, a large cement walkway like a strip mall. Daniel thought about how this would go over in New Jersey in the freezing winter. No schools were like this on the northeastern coast but he was on a different coast now, one where the sun set into the sea, one where he was tortured by the bullies.

Johnny's friends hadn't let up, and even though Johnny wasn't with them as frequently they still cornered him enough, causing black eyes and bruises to his ribs, and the punches he managed to get in never amounted to much.

Ali would look at him with sadness and simmering anger and wanted to protect him.

"I'm going to talk to them," she'd say, "it's gonna stop," and he'd cringe and tell her no, he could handle it. Even if he couldn't he didn't want her to have to save him. He'd rather drown, which was what he was doing.

After gym class the four Cobra Kai's circling him like lions around a wounded gazelle, he could see there was no way out. He punched one in the face and kicked one in the balls but that was all the damage he could inflict before they fell on him.

Lying on the ground, blood trickling from his nose, his side aching from sharp kicks, he heard his name in a familiar deep voice.

"Daniel," He looked up and over and saw Johnny, his blond hair shining in the sun, his new clothes crisp and neat, unlike his own dirt smudged jeans and torn shirt, scuffed sneakers with the worn soles.

"What?" he gasped out, and curled up against the pain in his stomach, curled up against his shortness of breath. He didn't care about Johnny in that moment, didn't care about what he might do to him. But Johnny didn't do anything, just gazed at him as he writhed in pain.

He avoided Ali, knowing that his torn clothes and dried blood might make her talk to them after all, despite his protests. He washed up in the bathroom, the cold water feeling nice against his hot face.

"There you are," Johnny appeared in the doorway, leaned against it and crossed his arms over his chest. Daniel glanced at him and at his own reflection in the mirror above the white porcelain sinks. He walked toward him across the floor with the small ceramic tiles, the floor that could get so slippery when it was wet.

Daniel looked wildly to the left and the right, there was no one. He backed up until he stood against one of the stalls.

"I've been looking for you," Johnny said, his voice dropping an octave. Daniel watched as he came closer, and he felt his breathing speeding up and becoming more shallow. He didn't move. Johnny stood in front of him, and he could smell the cologne he wore, sharp and spicy, and he could smell the shampoo he used on his yellow hair.

Daniel glanced beyond Johnny at the row of sinks, the brown and white ceramic tiles on the floor and the walls, at the door painted red, and no one was there. He tried to back up more but he was leaning against the space between stalls, and he was flattened against it as far as he could go. Johnny put the palm of his hand against Daniel's chest, pinning him to the spot, and he tilted his head and leaned down and kissed him, forcing his tongue into Daniel's mouth. Daniel sucked in his breath and felt the pressure of Johnny's hand against his chest, and he flicked his tongue against Johnny's tongue, and he felt Johnny's hand slide down from his chest to his stomach and to the waistband of his jeans.

He tugged on his jeans, pulling Daniel inches closer to him, and he kept kissing him, forceful and insistent. Daniel tried to pull away but Johnny anticipated his movements and kept kissing him, pulled him closer still by tugging on the waistband of his jeans, and Daniel stopped struggling for a moment and moved closer himself, and let himself be kissed.


	7. Chapter 7

Johnny put his hands on Daniel's shoulders and Daniel slipped one arm around Johnny's neck, still kissing, and Daniel glanced at their reflection in the mirrors above the row of sinks. The bathroom door slammed open and Johnny abruptly broke the kiss and shoved Daniel away from him. He felt the hard stall against his back, felt the lock on the door cutting into him. It was just some kid that had come into the bathroom, and he glanced at the two of them, not sure what he was walking in on. Johnny stalked out and the door slammed again, and the kid looked at Daniel for a second. Daniel stared back, still feeling the hard kiss on his lips, feeling the soreness from the beating and the shove into the stall door.

"Are you okay?" the kid said, and Daniel realized he was seeing the dried blood on his lip and under his nose and the torn and dirty clothes. Daniel licked his lips and thought about that question. He was being bullied and beaten and then there was Johnny. Johnny. He shook his head because he didn't know. He saw the concern in the strange kid's eyes and he didn't want that kind of concern aimed at him. The beatings didn't matter. Kissing Johnny didn't matter.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Daniel said, his voice shaky. He left the bathroom, hearing the door slam behind him.

He hadn't wanted to see Ali today, but she found him. He was putting books into his locker and getting books for the next class when she came over to him, and he cringed at the sharp concern in her eyes and the downward turn of her lips. She reached out to gently touch his bruised eye and he jerked away from her.

"Daniel…"

He gazed at her, her hand still outstretched to touch him but it just hung in the air, the warm California air. He closed his eyes for longer than a blink.

"Daniel, are you alright?"

"Yeah," he said it fast and mean, and it hurt her feelings. He saw her face crumple.

"Look, we've got to do something-"

"No, we don't," he said, and now his voice was just on the edge of sarcastic. Because what could they do? They wouldn't listen to her. He was their target. He ran his hand along his bruised ribs and winced, wondered if any of them were broken. They wouldn't stop. And she didn't even know the half of it with Johnny.

"Daniel, look, this can't go on-"

He sighed and looked away. His lips still tingled from the kiss, and he remembered how he had felt trapped and caught by Johnny, how he always felt that way with him. Helpless.

"I can handle it, alright?" he said, and thought of how Johnny had put his hand on his chest and pinned him to the wall. Johnny was stronger than he was, he knew that, even though he hadn't hit him or hurt him in awhile.

She didn't agree but she didn't say anything more, just bit her bottom lip and looked so worried that he felt bad. Wouldn't he try to help someone in a similar situation? What did he expect her to do? He moved closer to her and let her touch him, she touched his hair and the collar of his shirt.

"I'm sorry," he said, tilting his head, his voice soft, "I know you want to help, but it's fine. It's all over,"

She didn't believe him, and he saw her taking in all his injuries and the state of his clothes. He swallowed hard and tried to think of how he could convince her.

"It's really fine. Listen, we could go out Friday night, if you want…"

Through her disbelief she smiled at him, her flirty southern California girl smile, and he noticed the blue green hue of her eyes and the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose.

"Yeah, sure, that would be great," she said, and she leaned against him.


	8. Chapter 8

He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was in the tiny bathroom in his apartment, and the light had faded from the sky outside the window. The florescent light above the mirror was on, and it illuminated so harshly the fading bruise around his eye. He touched it and it still hurt, but the hurt was fading like the bruise. He'd actually been in a lot more pain than he was letting on to anyone. His mother only knew about the bruises she could see and he'd lied about all of them, said they didn't hurt and he was fine. Ali knew he was being beaten on a regular basis but he was minimizing things with her, "hey, it's no big deal," he's said, when in reality he's wondered if maybe a rib or two had been broken because he felt a sharp piercing pain every time he breathed in too deeply.

School was a land mine. Around every corner could be lurking Johnny's friends, laying in wait, ready to pounce. There were so many of them, and they took those karate classes, they trained for fighting. He was trained for nothing. He couldn't even manage to avoid them. And of course there was Johnny. He bit his lip and looked into his dark eyes in the mirror. He felt his cheeks burning and getting red just thinking about Johnny. He shook his head and tried to think of Ali.

"Almost ready?" his mother called to him. She was driving him to his date, and he felt awkward about that but he didn't have a license and things were far apart here, you needed to drive, or be driven.

"Yeah!" He squinted at his bruised eye in the mirror and wondered dimly when the next beating would be. He knew it would happen and that there was no escape. He thought of Johnny and the thought was tangled up with Ali, and he tried to separate the threads of these thoughts and push Johnny away and out of his head. He'd be with Ali tonight.

He felt nervous in the front seat of the car as his mother navigated the streets and drove out of Receda and into Encino. He liked to think of Ali and the closer they got the more he thought about her and the less he thought about Johnny. He pictured her blue/green eyes and her light freckles and the shape of her nose and lips, the way her hair curled. He ran a hand through his black hair, squeaky clean because he had washed and conditioned it, and it gleamed even in the light from passing houses and street lights.

Ali came out of her house and smiled at him, bounded down the steps to the car. From the front seat of his mother's car he looked up at her house. There were stone steps leading up a hill to a house set back behind a stone porch. It was made of brick and white shutters and edged with manicured shrubs and bright flowers. He blinked. He'd never known anyone who had lived in such a nice house. He thought of their apartment with its tacked down indoor/outdoor rug and faded linoleum floors and painted walls with all the cracks and chips. Based on the size of her house he thought their apartment would probably fit in her living room.

He got out of the car when she came down and smiled at her. He could smell her shampoo and perfume, something pink and light and like flowers.

"Hi," he said, ducking his head.

"Hi," she said, her voice soft and husky.

He let her sit between him and his mother, listened to the introductions and his mother urging her to call her Lucille.

They went to Golf N' Stuff, and he liked the carnival atmosphere of the place, liked the smell of fried dough and pizza and hamburgers. They headed toward all the stuff, arcades and mini-golf and all the shops selling shiny junk. She took his hand, her fingers entwining with his, and he liked the feel of her hand in his.

They played video games and rode the little rides they had and took their pictures in that booth. They smiled and laughed and he could feel something loosening in his chest, felt that pent up anxiety beginning to slack off. They were sitting on the boardwalk and he could smell and hear the ocean, and it was undulating in black waves in the distance. He leaned down and kissed her, and her lips and mouth were so soft, not like Johnny's hard and insistent kisses at all. Her skin was so soft, velvety, and he touched her shoulder as he kissed her.

"This is the best time I've had since I've been here," he told her, and she smiled at him, but there was something a little sad in that smile.

"So you'll stay?" she said, and he shrugged. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments.

"I'm kinda thirsty," she said, "but I don't want to move, it's so nice here,"

He jumped up, peering into the darkness where the ocean was, and then looking at her, noticing the way her soft curls fell around her shoulders.

"I'll go get us drinks. What do you want?" he said.

"Lemonade," she said.

"Your wish is my command," He headed off toward one of the many vending booths, turning a corner and losing sight of Ali. He stood in line for awhile, feeling the warm ocean breeze caress his cheeks and ruffle his hair. He shifted from one foot to the other, felt the crumpled up dollar bills and loose change in his hand. He ordered two lemonades and paid and was walking away with them when he heard his name in a familiar voice.

"Daniel,"

He turned fast, almost spilling the drinks. It was Johnny in a dress shirt and pants, his blond hair gleaming under the orange halo lights. Daniel stood rooted to the spot and stared at him, his eyes wide, his breathing getting faster and more shallow.


	9. Chapter 9

He felt like he couldn't breathe as he stared at Johnny's light blond hair, the light that reflected on it making it looked streaked with pure white. Daniel ran a hand through his own black hair, thinking of the differences between them, how everything between him and Johnny was stark contrast. He thought of Ali just around the corner, innocently waiting for him to return. His heart beat so hard in his chest that he could feel it.

He couldn't help noticing the fullness and redness of Johnny's lips, and he licked his own lips, remembering the times he's kissed him. Remembering the times Johnny forced him to kiss him, forced him to do things he didn't want to do. Daniel looked to Johnny and beyond him in the direction where Ali was sitting.

Johnny's eyes were a funny dark blue and rimmed with dark blond lashes. Daniel couldn't help noticing that funny blue color, again. He swallowed hard.

"Johnny…" he said, trying to think. Did Johnny know he was here with Ali? He hoped not. He didn't think that would be good. He didn't want him to know. And had he followed them here? If he did then he knew they were here together. Or was he just here, just by coincidence?

"Who's that other drink for?" Johnny said, staring at him.

"No one, just a friend-"

"Ali?" Johnny said quick, in a tone that wasn't exactly angry.

Daniel shifted from one foot to the other, not answering. He knew, of course he knew that he was with Ali.

"What time are you going home?" Johnny said, his tone softening.

"I don't know-"

"You know. What time?"

Daniel glanced around again, thinking Ali might come searching for him. In the sea of faces none of them were hers. He looked down at his beat up red Nikes and then back up at Johnny with his dark blue eyes and straight flaxen hair.

"Eleven," he said softly.

"Fine, meet me at midnight by the pool outside your apartment-"

"What?" Daniel said, squinting his eyes at him but feeling a thread of excitement.

"Finish your little date and then meet me by the pool," Johnny said, and took a step closer to Daniel and put his hand on his shoulder, leaned down and spoke into his ear, "if you don't you will get such a beating…"

He straightened up and smiled at Daniel.

"Okay?" Johnny said, his voice syrupy sweet, his smile a facsimile of innocence. Daniel thought about his threat, knew he'd make good on it one way or another. Everything was still too bruised and sore for him to forget.

"Yeah," Daniel said, his eyes on the ground.

He went back to Ali, watched Johnny walk away and dissolve into the crowd. He handed her the lemonade.

"God, what took you so long?" she said, sipping her drink.

"Oh, it was a long line," he said, not quite looking at her. She shrugged.

It was nearing eleven, nearing the time his mother would come for them, nearing the time he'd have to meet Johnny by the pool. He sat with Ali and thought he could maybe kiss her one more time before his mother arrived, before he had to go and see Johnny.

She was finishing her lemonade and he brushed her hair gently behind one ear, leaned down and kissed her, so soft and sweet. She tasted like the lemonade she just drank.


	10. Chapter 10

Glancing nervously at the clock the whole way home, feeling like it was Cinderella time in reverse, licking his lips. Listening to his mother and Ali talk, and thinking about Johnny. Johnny. His hair, it was so blond, an unreal shade of blond. He closed his eyes, feeling tense as they pulled up to Ali's big house and he looked up at it again, at the way it seemed to loom over the road, all that money looming over him.

"Bye, Ali," his mother said, waving.

"Bye," he said, his voice husky and thick. She tilted her head and smiled at him, and he saw something sad and sympathetic in that smile. He thought she wanted to kiss him, but in front of his mother she wouldn't.

"Bye, Daniel. I had fun," she said.

"Me, too,"

They drove away and his mother nudged him in the ribs with her elbow and he tried not to wince.

"She's cute," she said, and Daniel nodded. They drove the rest of the way home in silence.

In their apartment, his mother getting ready for bed, he felt his nerves jangling. He didn't have to go, there was nothing Johnny could do now. But Daniel knew he'd make good on his threat, and these beatings would seem like nothing. So there was no choice.

"Honey, I'm exhausted. See you tomorrow," Lucille said, heading into her bedroom. Daniel watched T.V. and watched the clock. 11:45. Time was slipping away. But he nodded at his mother and told her goodnight.

Midnight on the dot. He stood up, feeling the aching in his ribs from the kicks. The apartment was dark except for the glow of the T.V. He opened the door, expecting his mother to come flying out of her bedroom and demand to know where he was going. But her door remained closed.

Outside, the courtyard lit by lamps and the lights that were in the pool, he went down the stairs to the pool area. The air was still warm and he could smell the chlorine from the green, half filled pool. He held onto the stair railing and waited.

"Hi," Johnny stepped from the shadows by the side of the pool and Daniel jumped, somehow expecting more warning of his arrival.

"Uh, hi," Daniel said, looking at Johnny sideways, keeping his grip on the railing, and it was cool in his hand.

"How was your date?" Johnny said, stepping toward him.

"Fine," Daniel looked around, wondering if anyone else was around. There was no one. They were alone.

Johnny backed him up against the wall, and Daniel felt this anger rise up in him. He was tired of this, tired of getting beaten up and pushed around and toyed with, like he didn't matter. He shoved Johnny, and Johnny stumbled backwards, his mouth opening in surprise.

"Hey, I met you here at midnight like you wanted me to. So what do you want?"

Johnny smiled, a slow and dangerous smile, showing too many white and even teeth.

"Oh, I think you know what I want," he said in a low voice, and backed Daniel up against the wall again, but this time got a grip on both of his wrists. He leaned in and kissed him hard on the mouth, and Daniel twisted his head away.

"No, you don't," Johnny said, his body pressed up against Daniel's, and he went to kiss him again. Daniel moved his head away.

"Don't pretend you don't like it," Johnny hissed.


	11. Chapter 11

He hadn't wanted to do this, he thought as he felt Johnny release his wrists and slip his arms around his neck. He opens his mouth and allows Johnny's tongue to explore, gently flicking his tongue. He reaches up to caress the strong shoulders, leaning his head back, yielding, yielding. He hadn't wanted to. He wanted to keep the image of Ali in front of his eyes, her pretty sun streaked blond hair and blue/green eyes, freckled nose, pink lips, the softness of her skin. Johnny's cheek is rough, he can feel it against his own.

He hadn't wanted to make those gasps and little moans as Johnny touches him, and he knows he is free to go, but he doesn't go. He doesn't like that he likes this, and he trails his fingers down Johnny's shoulders and back and he can smell the sharp cologne, so different from the soft lilac apple flower smell of Ali.

They are alone. The darkness envelopes them, protects them. With Ali he needs no such protection. He can walk anywhere and hold her hand, lean down and kiss her cheek. With Johnny it's different.

His gentle kisses are becoming more insistent, hungry. Daniel catches his breath. Breathes his name, "Johnny…" He doesn't know if he wants to ask a question, if he wants to know what's going on. Doesn't he know?

"Why are you doing this?" Daniel says between kisses, his voice soft, all anger drained away.

Johnny's eyes are closed, half closed, just a crescent of blue visible beneath the dark blond lashes. Daniel waits, feels his body press against him, feels the rough plaster wall at his back, feels the humidity in the air. The air feels soft and warm and smells like flowers and plants he's never heard of. The air isn't like this in New Jersey. It is filled with smog there, and smells like the highway, car exhaust, turn pikes.

"I like you," Johnny says, his voice just a ghost of a whisper. Daniel's eyes widen and he allows himself to be kissed roughly, allows Johnny's hands to trail down his chest and stomach and waist, to tug on the button of his jeans and to undo it with one practiced twist of his wrist. He exhales between kisses and thinks of when Johnny has hit him, the hard and quick punches to his stomach and his ribs, the kicks to his back and legs, the aching bruises that faded like photographs overexposed. He thought of the times he's kissed him, forced him to kiss him, pinning him roughly to the ground, knees on his chest, hands around his wrists. He thought of that light headed feeling when he thought he couldn't get away, when he knew he couldn't get away and Johnny would do whatever he pleased. Was it like that now? Could he stop him if he wanted to?

So he tests, he stops kissing, pushes him gently away. Johnny opens his eyes and smiles, takes his wrists and traps him against the wall, leans in slow for a kiss, and Daniel tries to get away for real but Johnny is strong, much stronger than he is, and the pressure on his wrists tightens, and Johnny moves closer, his mouth next to Daniel's ear, "you do like this…"

He tightens up on his wrists so much that Daniel can feel the little bones there grinding against each other and he grits his teeth against the pain, and Johnny sees the pain in his eyes and smiles again and whispers to him, "say you like it…" as the pressure on his wrists becomes unbearable and Daniel thinks he might break them so he says it like a good boy, "I like it…" and the pressure eases, his wrists held loosely and lightly, and he's kissed so gently, and he opens his mouth and allows it. Leans his head back again, his stomach twisting with indignation and shame and something else, some form of pleasure he's never experienced until he met Johnny.

"Lay down," Johnny commands, and Daniel watches him with his wide eyes, knowing he can obey or not, but it won't change the fact that he'll end up bending to Johnny's will. His wrists are aching and he knows they'll be red and bruised and swollen tomorrow. He bites his lower lip and takes a few shallow breaths, thinking of running but he'll be caught, maybe hit. Does he care? He takes a step away, as though he were just going to go up to his apartment and forget all this, and he's grabbed around his waist and forced to the ground, forced to lay flat on his back, all of Johnny's weight on his stomach, making it hard to breathe.

Johnny gazes down at him, reaches out to stroke his hair, and Daniel stays perfectly still.

"Why do you make this so difficult?" Johnny says, being careful of Daniel's sore wrists, kissing him on the temple and the lips, sliding his weight off of Daniel's stomach, lower, lower, and Daniel closes his eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

He felt Johnny's breath on his skin, felt his head tilt back. He could feel the grass under him, it was wet and almost cold. Felt his breathing begin to speed up, felt movement even though he was laying still. He could see the top of Johnny's head, his yellow blond hair shining in the dim lights that lit this courtyard. Daniel's hands were down by his sides, and he grabbed handfuls of dirt and grass.

Sometimes he was afraid to open his eyes, thinking anyone could walk by and just see them. He kept his eyes closed most of the time, felt the softness of Johnny's mouth and his tongue. He moaned, twisted in pleasure.

"Yeah, Johnny, right there…"

He could smell the chlorine from the pool, that little bit of chlorinated water that was in it, and he could smell something else, like algae, the soft green scum he's seen in the pool. He wanted to get up and he wanted to stay, opposite desires making him immobile. He twisted his hips a little and saw Johnny move, and all he could see was the top of his blond head and his shoulders.

No one's done this before, no one's gotten so far with him, male or female. He licked his lips and felt his body sliding toward pleasure without his consent. He'd get up, go upstairs to his apartment and forget all about this. In just one minute.

He sighed and shifted his weight again. He wanted to push Johnny away and pull his jeans back up, button them, run. He wanted to get away. He wanted Ali. But he couldn't seem to move or follow his own commands because what Johnny was doing felt so good. He knew what to do, it seemed. He knew when to apply pressure and when to release it. He knew how to touch him to get him to moan like that, and Daniel arched his back and thoughts of getting up and getting away melted into ribbons, into thin nothingness.

Was it even his choice to make? If he tried to get up Johnny could easily hold him down, could easily hit and hurt him again, and Daniel's cells remembered every beating. It was easy to stay when he knew the stakes.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling that slide toward the climax he had only experienced before by himself. He shook his head, denying, not wanting this. Not wanting this with a boy, not wanting to be forced like this. It was deep pleasure with a core of shame.

"No…" he breathed this word and wasn't sure Johnny heard him. But it was too late. He couldn't stop it, and he wouldn't have got up and made him stop even if he could, but he repeated his denial as he squeezed his eyes shut and came.

"No,"

It was done and Johnny slowly lifted himself up and off of him. Daniel felt sort of scared of Johnny, worried about what else he might do. He could feel Johnny looking at him, staring at him, his eyes boring into him. Daniel looked down, yanked his jeans up and twisted the button closed. He looked at the grass and dirt where he had disturbed it, saw the dirt there fresh and dark. He let out a shuddery breath, inched away from Johnny, not sure if he'd let him leave.

"Daniel," Johnny said his name in a neutral tone, and Daniel couldn't bring himself to look at him. He felt his cheeks burning red, the tips of his ears burning red. He bit his bottom lip, got shakily to his feet, hugging himself, feeling Johnny's eyes crawling over him. He backed up slowly.

"Uh, I gotta go," Daniel said, his eyes on the ground. He saw Johnny's jeans and sneakers, both expensive, both more expensive than anything he could ever afford. He couldn't even hear anything anymore, didn't know if Johnny responded or not. He walked backwards slowly, making sure Johnny wasn't going to try and grab him, force him to do anything else, and when he was sure he wasn't going to he took off, grabbed the railing and felt the cold metal in his hand, and ran up the stairs.


	13. Chapter 13

He let himself into his apartment, trying to be quiet and not disturb his mother. It was dark, but the lights from the courtyard coming through the windows provided just enough light to see by. He held his breath, expecting his mother to come out of the bedroom any minute in her robe and slippers and shake him, accuse him of the things he's just done.

He stood in the middle of the small living room, the T.V. screen silent and blank, looking funny and lifeless like all T.V.'s when they're turned off. He let out his pent up breath, realizing his mother wouldn't wake up. She didn't usually wake up no matter how late he came in. He went to the sink in the smaller kitchen and got himself a glass of water and drank it down in one long swallow.

He went into his bedroom, undressing down to his boxer shorts, kicking his clothes and sneakers into the corner. He slipped under the sheets of his bed but felt restless and wakeful, he knew he wouldn't be able to go to sleep. He thought about his fractured night, the first half of it so sweet with Ali, then the second half with Johnny. Johnny. He hissed his breath out through his teeth, feeling angry. He grabbed handfuls of the sheet and squeezed it through his fists. He shook his head, angry with Johnny and what he did do him, angry with himself for liking it.

When sleep finally came after hours of tossing and turning he went gratefully, and rode down into the strange subterranean sections of his mind.

"Daniel!" He heard his mother and he saw the bright sun coming full blast into his room and he covered his head with the pillow. Once he had fallen asleep he wanted to stay asleep, he didn't want to get up and deal with his mother, having to pretend that things were fine and that he was fine. He didn't want to have to deal with Ali and pretending that it was only her, there was no one else he was kissing or touching, or no one else doing that to him. He didn't want to deal with all of Johnny's psycho friends and the beatings he'd have to endure, and he didn't want to deal with Johnny. He wanted to stay in his bed and never get up. It seemed easier.

"Daniel!" He groaned and lifted the pillow from his face, squinting his eyes against the sun. He threw the covers off and felt the brief chill, and he stood up and slipped into his dirty jeans from last night. In the kitchen his mother was cooking pancakes and scrambled eggs, and he saw the bread in the toaster, the orange juice carton on the table.

"Hi," his mother said, flipping pancakes, stacking them onto a plate. He slid into a chair at the table.

"I wanted to sleep," he said sullenly, and he glanced down at himself to make sure there were no visible bruises. He didn't see any, but that would be all he needed, an inquisition.

"What? You want to sleep all day and waste this beautiful day?" She smiled at him, and he noticed how her small blue eyes were bloodshot. It was from working late all the time.

"Every day is like this. It isn't New Jersey, you know,"

"I know, wise guy, but we just got here. It's still a nice day,"

He rolled his eyes. He was waking up anyway, and he couldn't stay in bed all the time. He had to figure it out, this mess with Johnny and Ali and everybody else. He chewed his pancakes and sipped his orange juice and thought about how he really wanted to be left alone.

Watching cartoons on the T.V., mindless little pictures moving and shouting across the screen, he found himself thinking about Johnny. He thought about the shade of his hair, about the tensile strength of his muscles, about the feel of his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to think about those things.

His mother was cleaning, he heard her rearranging things in the cupboards, wiping down counters and tabletops, dusting plants. He felt bad for not helping her and was thinking of getting out the vacuum so he wouldn't be a complete bum when he heard the phone ring. He didn't want to get it and didn't care if it rang itself off the stupid hook. His mother answered it.

"Hello? Yeah, he's here, hold on,"

"Daniel, phone," she said, holding it out to him. He licked his lips, stood up and took the phone.

"Hello?" he said, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Daniel?" He didn't have to ask who it was, he knew. It was Johnny.

"Uh, Johnny?"

"Yeah, Daniel, listen, I wanted to…I just wanted to talk to you,"

He sounded so different than usual. Daniel held the phone to his ear and thought about the difference in how he sounded. He didn't sound like his usual in control self. There was a degree of uncertainty in his voice that kind of interested Daniel.

"Oh, yeah," And Daniel knew he was sounding kind of pissed off. What did he want from him? He'd already bent him to his will.


	14. Chapter 14

"What do you want to talk about?" Daniel said, twirling the phone cord around his finger, watching his mother watching him. He sounded more than pissed off.

"I don't know…"

Johnny's voice trailed off into uncertainty, and Daniel thought about the other night, wishing he'd had the strength to fight back. He was tired of being everybody's plaything, being hit and hurt and toyed with, pushed around whatever way they all felt like, and it included Ali, too. The way she would tug on his clothes, tilt her head and talk in that sexy baby voice. Everyone seemed to be manipulating him. He'd had enough.

"Look, I haven't felt this way about anyone before, I just don't really know what to do," Johnny said, and Daniel's eyes widened, and he saw his mother straining to hear his conversation.

"If you want to come over now I'll meet you out by the pool at my apartment building," Daniel said, and he heard Johnny sigh in relief.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," he said, and Daniel said okay, and thought that he was gonna let him have it.

"Who was that?" his mother said, trying to sound casual but she was prying. Daniel took a swig of orange juice and listened to the noise of the cartoons in the background.

"No one. Just a friend,"

Half an hour later he was waiting out by the pool, feeling nervous little butterflies battering themselves against the lining of his stomach. He saw Johnny walking toward him, saw how tall he was, the way his blond hair shined in the sun, the broadness of his shoulders. Daniel knew he was smaller, more delicate, skinny at barely a hundred and twenty pounds. He'd been beaten by Johnny before. He didn't care. Saying what he wanted to say was worth a beating.

"Hi," Johnny said, with this new kind of shyness, and it was sort of puzzling to Daniel. Did he like him? He breathed in the subtle smell of Johnny's cologne, the scent of the shampoo he used on his hair. Confusion was raging inside of Daniel's head. He didn't really want to deal with any of this, with anybody. He licked his lips.

"Listen, you can't, you can't keep just doing whatever you want to do to me," Now he was angry, and felt himself glaring at him, felt the memory of being touched against his will last night, despite liking it. That only made it worse.

"I know, I can't help it-"

"You can't help it," Daniel spat at him, and he shoved him lightly. Johnny took it, rocked back slightly with the shove, his head down, looking up at him with those dark blue eyes.

"I can't help it, I want to be near you all the time, but I want, I want…"

"What?" Daniel said, his tone somewhere between puzzled and angry. Then Johnny lifted his head up and smiled his small evil smile, and he walked toward Daniel and backed him up against the wooden fence, held his arms at the wrists, put his face one inch away from Daniel's.

"I want to do what I want," he said, and closed his eyes, the dark blond lashes laying softly against his pale cheeks, and he kissed him. Daniel had felt so tired of fighting that he didn't even struggle, let his wrists be held loosely in Johnny's hands, and he kissed him back.


	15. Chapter 15

He felt his tongue in his mouth, soft, exploring. He felt his hands circling his wrists, tightening his grasp. He moved them and felt Johnny tighten up, and he knew there was no getting away. It was the difference in their strength. Johnny could do what he wanted.

He could see the bright sun even through his closed eyelids, felt the California sun laying on his skin, hot and yellow. He opened his eyes and saw the blondness of Johnny's hair, straight and almost yellow, in such stark contrast to his own jet black hair.

Was there no way to change this? Would there never be a way for him to take back some control of his life? He moved his wrists again, struggled again, but Johnny liked that and gladly tightened his grip.

"C'mon," Johnny said, breaking the kiss but still holding onto his wrists. Daniel stared into those large deep blue eyes, the blue like the layers of the ocean, like the layers of the sky before it rained. They were framed by dark blond lashes, his eyelashes and eyebrows a shade darker than his hair, an ash blond. He could see the faint freckles across the bridge of his nose, freckles brought out by the constant sun. Ali had them, too. His own darkly tanned skin had no freckles.

Johnny broke his grasp around both wrists but still held one, his fingers around his bones fierce and tight, and he pulled him from the courtyard of cement and the broken swimming pool, pulled him through the wooden gate and to his car parked by the sidewalk. His car was new and smelled like it inside, smelled like the factory and new carpet and air fresheners. The new car scent overwhelmed him.

"Get in," he said, opening the passenger side door for him like he was a girl. He didn't have to get in, he could run back to his apartment, he could say fuck you and take off. He glanced at Johnny, his confident gaze troubled at the edges by uncertainty, and was it that look that made him get in and become enveloped by the newness, the leather as soft as butter and smelling like a freshly slaughtered cow?

Johnny flipped on the radio and the sound surround system made him feel like he was inside a speaker, not like all the other cars he'd been in with the tinny sound of the radio or tape deck crackling out some vaguely familiar song. The engine purred and hummed, everything greased and oiled perfectly, everything running on all cylinders, the power of the car evident as he shifted from one delicate gear to the next.

He noticed Johnny's clean and neatly trimmed fingernails as he shifted, and he felt the contrast of his own nails bitten down to skin and blood, his nervous habit. He noticed how the scenery changed from run down apartment buildings and broken railings and wooden fences with paint chipping off to houses set back from the road on green lawns, sprinklers whirring lazily, creating half arcs of rainbows in the blue sky.

Johnny parked in the long winding driveway of a house that was almost big enough to be considered a mansion, he pulled up along the black coiled snake of the driveway and parked at an angle. This was Johnny's house. He gazed up at the deep set windows with stained glass like a church. He gazed up at perfect trim and clever angles of roofs and dormers, and he wondered what Johnny must think of the apartment he lived in, like a cheap motel on the forgotten side of the road. What must he think of the three rooms he and his mother called home? There was no perfect trim and clever angles at his rotting apartment complex. There were leaky faucets and ill fitting window casings and bubbling plasterboard under slapped on coats of white paint. His room was probably smaller than some forgotten closet in this house, a closet where old and useless things were shoved to get them out of sight.

Johnny got out of the car and he followed him, feeling small and intimidated by the wealth he could smell in the air. He followed him with his head ducked down, hoping his parents weren't home because he knew the questions rich parents would ask. What did his father do? He had no idea. What had his father done after he took off when he was six years old? He knew what his mother did. She worked one small and insignificant job after another, working in computers one day and training to be a manager at some run down Chinese restaurant the next day, hauling them from one coast to the other with barely a thought.

His parents weren't around, it seemed, as they went into the house with a huge foyer and real tile on the floors, tiles the size of his T.V. screen at home, sanded and rough, the color of bricks that have baked a thousand years in some desert sun.

Johnny headed up a gently spiraling staircase and Daniel followed, feeling trepidation enter his bloodstream like a virus. They were obviously going up to his bedroom. What was he planning on doing to him there?


	16. Chapter 16

Johnny's bedroom was large, the windows deep set like the rest of the house, the bed and the dressers taking up hardly any room at all. The thick carpet, a deep brown, vacuumed daily by some grim faced maid, plush and luxurious under his feet. He blinked, looking around at all the trophies, and not just for karate tournaments, although those made up the bulk of them. There were trophies for baseball and basketball and football, there were awards for spelling and excellence in history and math. Daniel glanced at Johnny, at his gleaming blond hair and deep blue eyes, never guessing he was smart as well as athletic.

What did he possibly see in him? A poor boy from the slums of Reseda, a transplant from the slums of Newark, New Jersey. He didn't have one single trophy for anything. He scraped by in school with C's and D's. Johnny kept coming to him, kissing him and touching him and hitting him, holding him down, trapping him, making him feel like he had no choice but to allow anything Johnny wanted to do. He could say no and protest, that was certainly true, but after a beating he'd just have to submit to his will anyway. His only choice was how much he wanted to be forced.

He gazed at the real paintings on his wall, the paint as thick as frosting on medieval canvasses. He gazed at the silk and fine thread of the curtains that nearly touched the floor. He gazed at the real hardwood and oak that his dressers and bedframe were made from. He wondered why he liked being forced into things, why he liked the feeling that he had no choice, why it made his stomach flutter and twist. Why did he like it when Johnny held his wrists down and wouldn't let him go?

Why did he come here? Nothing good was going to happen here in all this opulence, nothing good would happen when he laid on that bed that probably cost more than all of his mother's possessions put together. He was going to leave. He was going to stop being entranced by Johnny's fine blond hair and cobalt blue eyes. He was going to start hanging out with Ali, kissing Ali, soft gentle kisses, no one forcing anyone to do anything. No one hitting anyone, forcing their will on anyone. He was going to leave and be normal.

"Uh, listen, Johnny, I'm gonna take off," he said, heading for the door. Johnny blocked the door, moving quickly to stand in front of him, a wicked grin on his face.

"I don't think so," he said softly, the menace just under the surface of the words. Daniel felt the pull and twist of his stomach, and he knew in that instance that he wasn't going anywhere, no matter how hard he might fight.

"Look, I can't, I can't do this…I'm leaving," Daniel said, pushing past Johnny to get to the door and out. If he could make it past Johnny to the door and then the hall that lead to the spiral stairs, he could get away.

Johnny grabbed his arm roughly, and Daniel felt it twist in his grasp, and he shoved him toward the bed. The door was receding, a little and far away door that he would never reach.

"Nuh uh, you're not going anywhere," Johnny said, his voice less soft, more of a growl, and Daniel's stomach twisted even more, making him almost dizzy. Did he want this? Did he want everything Johnny could dish out? Did he want to fight and lose?

"Yeah, I'm leaving!" Daniel said, shoving Johnny hard, making him rock back. Johnny was on him then, rushing toward him, his voice a deep growl in his throat.

"My parents aren't home, no one's home," he said, pinning Daniel's wrists into his soft mattress, "and you are going to do exactly what I want you to," He leaned in and kissed Daniel's neck right on the rapid pulse.

Daniel twisted, bucking underneath him, turning his head away, kicking against him. He felt Johnny's weight on him, he was straddling him and sitting on his stomach.

"Daniel," Johnny hissed between clenched teeth, "lie still,"

He didn't, he couldn't. He wanted to get away, fearing himself more than Johnny, wondering what was wrong with him. He tried to think of Ali, her cute nose, her full red lips, her sun bleached blond hair that fell across her aqua green eyes. He didn't want this, not having a choice, not being able to move, being hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut while still twisting and pulling against him, feeling Johnny tighten up every time he pulled away.

"Daniel, listen to me," Johnny said, his mouth close to his ear, and he could feel his breath as he talked, "I'll beat you and then fuck you if you don't stop,"

Daniel opened his eyes and stopped moving, his breathing rapid. He stopped moving but every muscle was tensed. He could remember the recent beatings, every cell remembered. He felt the ache of the bruises that had been on his arms and legs and stomach and rib cage. He felt the panic when he'd been punched in the stomach and couldn't breathe. He saw the black stars that burst in front of his eyes as someone's fist slammed into his head.

He stared at Johnny, at his blue eyes as he stared down at him, and he felt the grip on his wrists loosening. He stayed perfectly still, imagining Johnny violently forcing him onto his stomach, pulling his jeans and boxer shorts down, forcing his legs apart. He took a deep breath and felt every tensed muscle.

Slowly Johnny leaned close to him, kissing him so softly on the lips, his tongue gently exploring. Daniel opened his mouth, flicking his tongue against Johnny's, trying to be the best kisser he'd ever had, trying to reciprocate every tiny thrust of Johnny's tongue. Trying to be a good boy.

Johnny broke the kiss and pulled away far enough so he could see Daniel's face clearly, his hands still wrapped gently around his wrists. Daniel stayed still and gazed up at him, dark eyes wide, breathing rapid and shallow.

"That's better," Johnny said, and he smiled.


End file.
